A Light In Darkest Night
by nlduffy
Summary: Um.....this is a backstory for my MESPT character Asphodel Brandybuck. It will eventually explain how she had a half-elven child. Um yeah! It's gets progressivly angstier as it goes along, and might get a little more "involved" as well.
1. The Beacon

Chapter One-The Beacon  
  
Red hair. Impossibly red hair weaving through the sea of ovens and tables towards me. It was not often a customer came back into the cooking area. That is why I worked here, cooking meals in a sleazy tavern for my room and board. It was the lack of personal contact that attracted me. I preferred to spend my days alone, reading and brooding over what I had lost. At night, as I slipped into the kitchen to begin my shift, I was faceless, just one of the many crowded into a tavern for sustenance and companionship. I could hide, out of sight behind a row of ovens, while I prepared countless soups and salads for the hungry throng that poured through the tavern's doors. The red-haired man was getting closer now, splotches of anger making themselves clearly evident on his fair elven complexion. He had a bowl of something in his hands, and he repeatedly looked down at it, as if checking to make sure the thing inside could not attack him while he was off-guard. He stopped in front of me and asked, while dramatically waving the bowl about " Did you make this salad?" He glared down at me from his considerable height. Hardly daring to speak, I nodded yes. I had to look up at his chest, for he was taller than I by at least two feet was. Even standing on a box, I hardly reached four foot nine. I was used to being taller than all of my family, but of course, that was back in the Shire. I snapped back to attention as the salad bowl made another swoop towards my face. Impatiently he questioned, "What does vegan mean to you?" He was pointing at something in his bowl. Ham chunks. In a small voice, I pointed out "If you couldn't eat them, you could've picked them out," but he didn't hear me. By then he was off on a rant about how the tavern was trying to poison it's patrons, and that if he were to die, then the manager would certainly be hearing from his family. "Actors," he concluded, "Actors have very delicate constitutions. One must take care of himself, especially on the opening night of his show. Which coincidentally, is The Music of the Ainur, which will open on the edge of town at eight o'clock tonight." Everyone had their eyes fixed on him. I blanched and shrunk away from all the eyes watching me. He dramatically thrust the salad bowl back into my hands and said "Remake this, wench!" I stared dumbly into the lettuce as he flounced back to his table. Fifteen minutes later, I was out of a job. The manager, a stout fellow with kind eyes, apologized, saying: " We can't have another disturbance like that. It's bad for business." He gave me until the next day to clean out my room. I was out all alone, without a job, money, food, or a place to stay all because some pompous twit of an elf wanted to promote a show. I don't know what came over me, but I found my legs carrying me towards his table. He was sitting there, laughing heartily with a group of elves, probably his troupe. " You should have seen that bumpkin's face!" he guffawed, and I realized with a jolt that he was talking about me. I tapped him on the shoulder, and after he turned around, I slapped him as hard as I could across his face. "Thanks to you and your arrogance, I am out of a job!" Noticing the look of terror on his face, I remembered one of the myths that the local people told about hobbits, the completely false claim that we were sorcerers, able to curse. " Master Elf," I said under my breath, "Two can play at your game." Adopting a somber tone, I began to chant the names of many long dead relatives, finally concluding with an ear piercing scream and " May my ancestors curse your theatre, your troupe, your show, your sets, your costumes, your dignity!" No one spoke. Satisfied, I walked away. 


	2. The Curse

Chapter 2-The Curse I don't know what made me do it, but I went to the show that night. Having seen only a couple predictions, I was amazed that I could actually tell how horrible the show was. Their costume trunk had fallen into the river, and they were ruined that way, the cast was clothed in bed sheets. According to their interpretation of this timeless myth, Eru's famous lines were "..uh..dammit!" Other large chunks of dialogue were forgotten as well, leaving huge gaps in the storyline, and long, awkward pauses on stage. It seemed as if all was lost, people were walking out, but the red-haired elf came on stage. He seemed to exude calm and the essence of his character, Melkor. Even clothed in a bed sheet, he commanded an awesome stage presence. His very presence seemed to give the other actors the needed boost, and the play became a play once more. Laiqalassë, for I had read his name in the playbill, was clearly the best actor up there. His monologues were potent, well rehearsed, yet real. In his final monologue, he was striding across a raised platform, when a section of rotted wood snapped under his weight. Desperate not to fall, he grabbed onto the nearest thing, a mountain jutting out of the ten foot long back scenery. With an ominous creak, it toppled over, sending Laiqalassë shooting through the hole onto the muddy ground below. The audience dispersed and I too left, smiling at the power a simple suggestion could have against such normally rational people as the elves. He caught up with me on the outskirts of town. "Your curse," he hissed, "has ruined our performance!" I merely kept walking. "No, Master Elf, your troupe ruined the play. I merely made a suggestion." Laiqalassë was angered by my nonchalance. "We perform for a living! If we are labeled as bad actors, we can't survive!" "Maybe you should get a better troupe then!" He was desperate by now, pleading "Your cruelty will put us out of a job!" "Why not?" I resoned. "Yours did." Suddenly angry, my words spilled out in a rush. "Your publicity stunt cost me my job! We both know you put those ham chinks in the salad! It not only cost me my job, but my home and the fragile peace I've tried to build up for the past two years! I've lost my home because of your arrogance! And you're complaining because a show didn't go well? Now, unless you want to ruin my life further, I'll be going now." I stalked off. He didn't try to follow me. 


	3. Charity And Nostalgia

Chapter 3- Charity and Nostalgia  
  
I headed out of town early the next morning. The road I was taking, the only road in and out of town led me past where the actors were camped. I walked past without looking, and ignored Laiqalassë's valiant attempts to flage me down. I felt someone behind me. I whirled around to face Lai. "I'm leaving you alone!" I hissed and continued walking. "I have a job for you."His voice was barely audible. I stopped and turned to face him. "What self-respecting business owner would hire a hobbit?" "Our troupe needs new costumes. Most were ruined." "And you're going to hire me?" I laughed. "I won't be a charity case so you can ease your bleeding conscience. No thank you, Msater Elf!" I would have left then and there, but he said please. I relented. "Only until I have enough money to get a room in a tavern, alright?" He nodded, and seemed to lighten up. His smile lit up his face light a sunbeam across a snowy field. He walked me over to the camp. A female elf came to greet us. "This is Ameniél, my cousin." He informed me. "Ameniél stepped back and regarded me with a look of hatred and disgust. "I told you Lai! No more damn charity cases! We already have Arhael!" Her tone was light as she teased her cousin, but her eyes were hard as she looked at me. Laiqalassë, Lai, shrugged. I felt my cheeks burn. "Maybe I should just go," I said. To my surprise it was not Lai that answered, but another male elf, this one with long brown hair. He looked a bit younger than Laiqalassë and Ameniél, but I was never good at judging elven ages. "Don't you mind Ameniél. She's had a bee in her bonnet for the last millennia." He ducked a slap from her. " My name is Arhael," He said with a bow. "I'll be glad to show you around." I curtsied, surprised at his positive reaction to a stranger such as myself. "My name is Asphodel. Asphodel Brandybuck, a hobbit of The Shire." This interested Arhael. "What brings you so far from home?" He queried. This was the question I had been avoiding for the past two years. I replied truthfully "I do not have a home to go to anymore." Arhael nodded. "It is the same with this troupe. We were originally of a house in Gondolin. We lost many of our number when Gondolin fell. Edenglor," he gestured to the pompous looking blonde elf who had played Eru the night before, "And Ameniél's mother was among those who fell." I nodded, not knowing what else to say. By the time dinner rolled around that night, I had been introduced to the rest of the troupe. There was strong, silent Faindol, an elf of dark complexion, and Rowan, a roguish female elf; Arhael, Ameniél, Edenglor and Lai. Out of the six, Arhael was the only one who would speak to me, or even look me directly in the eyes. As I ate my meatless soup, for they were all vegans, my mind wandered back to The Shire. My garden would be blooming about now, and I could taste the first of my crop of carrots and potatoes. The lettuce would be getting riper but the tomatoes would still be green. The sunflowers would be several feet high and the roses..The beautiful pink, red and white roses that adorned the outside of my smial, they would be blooming as well. I look up as the fireside chatter stops around me, and I realize that I am crying. I make some excuse about too much onion in the soup and make a hasty retreat. As I stumbled blindly towards the woods, Arhael got up to follow me, but I heard Lai's voice "Let her go Arhael." Someone did get up to follow me, however. I spun to face them. Through my tear blurred eyes, I could tell it was Lai. "You come to mock my tears!" I accused him and flung myself at him, pummeling his chest with my tiny fists. Suddenly, his arms are holding me tight. Pinning my arms against my sides, his grip was firm, yet gentle. I struggled for awhile, then relaxed and clung to him sobbing. It would have been a strange sight for anyone passing by. Two people, as different as night and day, in a twisted embrace in a dark wood. One would never have guessed that not even ten minutes before we were not speaking to each other, for all his former animosity towards me was gone. 


	4. The Broken Wheel

Chapter 4-The Broken Wheel  
  
I was in the front of the wagon with Arhael keeping track of the cows we passed when, with a cracking sound, the wagon shuddered to a halt. Arhael let out a string of elvish curses, and prepared to go check the damage. "Here," I offered, "Let me check, I'm smaller, it will be easier for me to check for damage. You keep the animals still. 52 cows, if you're still keeping track." I smiled and stepped off the wagon. My smile faded when I saw what had caused the bump. The spokes on the front wheel had collapsed and the rim was disconnected. " Arhael, it's bad. We need to unload the wagon." I called, then went up to tell the others, who were riding up ahead. Ameniél stalked by me, already off her horse. "Hobbit, this is your fault." She growled at me. To everyone else in the troupe, I was Asphodel, but to her I was just "Hobbit," a member of an inferior race without a name or a personality. Distracted, I tried to pull a heavy chest out of the back of the wagon, but lost my balance and plopped awkwardly into the mud. The chest wobbled for a second, and I watched in horror as it fell in slow motion towards my twisted leg. A sharp pain accompanied the thud of the heavy oaken chest as it settled on my leg. Determined not to scream, for I knew that would scare the horses, I called "Arhael? Can you come here a minute? Please?" It was not Arhael that came, but Laiqalassë. I beseeched him, "Can you get this chest off of my leg? It's hard to be useful when I'm pinned to the ground." He grimaced, but complied. I took careful notice of the angle of my leg as he effortlessly lifted the heavy chest away. "I think it's broken." I commented. He nodded mutely, a look of absolute disgust on his face as he stared at my leg which was now a very interesting shape, which vaguely resembled a Z. "Can you get my satchel? I have some pain relieving herbs in it." Another mute nod answered my question and Lai moved off. Setting my leg wasn't as difficult as I thought, as long as I ignored the pain, which was nearly unbearable. All the elves were gathered around, curious as to how I would deal with this new trial. All eyes were on me as I tore up my good summer dress into strips, after I had aligned my leg between two straight sticks. I gritted my teeth and shoved the bone back into some semblance of a leg with a crunch. I then wrapped the strips of my dress tightly around the sticks and sealed them together with a hard pine resin, forming a sort of cast. After the makeshift cast had hardened, I gingerly tried to stand. The shooting pain in my foot as I attempted to put pressure on it sent the ground up to meet me with astonishing speed. "Arhael," I croaked in a smalle voice, addressing the only member of the troupe I knew would help me, "Could you get me a treebranch and a knife? I need to make a crutch." It was Faindol that answered. I had not really noticed him before, he was a bit older than the rest, and he was more of a backstage person, more like to work behind the scenes then out in front of a crowd. I hadn't heard him speak before, but he did now. "We have a crutch in the props chest," he rimbled and moved towards the wagon. He returned in a minute carrying a small oaken crutch roughly my size. He thrust it at me and left. Arhael bent to give me a hand up and whispered, "He must really like you. That crutch belonged to his son. Faindol lost him before the Fall and all the rest of his family during the siege of Gondolin. One of his daughters was my age."He turned away then, but not before I could see the pain in his eyes. 


End file.
